


Just a Game

by Major



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Halloween Coliver, I love October, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2479163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Major/pseuds/Major
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys play with a Ouija board instead of studying, which is what procrastination looks like in October.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Game

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this before seeing that epic fourth episode, which has a few scenes that I definitely haven't watched more than once. Nope. And certainly not more than twice. …That would be crazy…
> 
> Disclaimer: Tragically, I own nothing.

"You were the one who wanted something to do, Meatloaf.  Sit down and stop bitching.  It's just a game."  Connor leered up at Asher from the round kitchen table in Laurel's pitifully small apartment.

The study group had gathered at her place to prepare for the test next week, but one power outage, a bunch of lit candles, and the arrival of two boyfriends (well, a fiancé and a frequent hookup) later and plans had changed.  Aiden had come to pick Michaela up to start their weekend together and Oliver had arrived early from work to get dinner with Connor.  Both had stuck around when the lights went out on the whole block.  The restaurant was out of their minds now.  Chips, soda, and other junk from Laurel's pantry were spread out around the table and countertops in the apartment swamped in darkness.  Even the night sky through the open window was starless.  If not for the candles, they would have been sitting in a pitch black room.  Frankly, Connor could think of a lot more interesting things to do in the dark, but since Oliver wanted to stick around he had to save that for later.

"Why does she even have that thing?"  Asher reached for the Ouija board but drew his hand away quickly, recoiling like it might unhinge its jaw and sink sharp teeth into his wrist.  He dropped his voice, eyes darting out of the cramped kitchen down the short hall where their host had disappeared, hissing, "And what's with all the candles, huh?  I haven't seen this many candles since _The Craft_!"

Connor rolled his eyes.  So now Laurel was a witch.

He waved his hand flippantly.  "Maybe she's a lesbian.  Lesbians love candles."

"Maybe _you're_ a lesbian!"  Asher shot back.  Stupidly.  As always.

Laurel came back into the room suddenly, and Asher threw himself back startled, hitting his back against the counter and knocking over a soda can with a loud, aluminum pinging as it rolled off and smacked the floor.  The guy was a disaster.

"So who's going to play?"  She looked around at everyone smiling.  The girl was weird.  She probably invited her Wiccan friends over and did this every Friday night instead of arranging some sort of actual life.  It was sad, and Connor would be sad for her if he could summon it within himself to care.  At the end of the day, she was his competition, and her sadness was her problem.

"I'm in."  He declared fearlessly.  It really was just a stupid game.

"Me too.  Looks like fun."  Wes hopped down from the counter, pulling his hand from a bag of Doritos and setting it aside as he came over to the round wooden table, all study material forgotten in bags or blackened corners of the room.

Connor scooted the empty chair beside him under the table and put his arm around it.  _This seat is reserved._   Wes got the message and redirected himself to the seat beside Aiden.

"Well, I'm not."  Michaela crossed her arms next to him and wandered over to an armchair in the living room that the kitchen opened right into.  Sadly for Laurel, she was only a dozen feet away from them now.  She wouldn't be practicing any gymnastic floor routines at home.  "That thing," she pointed to the board with as much disdain but far more dignity than Asher, "is asking for trouble."

Connor grinned her way in the darkness.  "Are you scared, princess?"

She cut an even icier smile back at him.  "Believe whatever you want, but I never open a door if I'm not prepared to face what's on the other side of it."

Asher pointed at her victoriously like she had just won her case with an amazing closing argument instead of just revealing herself to be a superstitious moron.

"You sure, babe?"  Aiden asked, grinning over at her.  "You know I'll protect you from whatever comes through the door."

Gag.

"Pass."  Michaela pulled out her phone and her disinterest was lit up by the glow of the screen in the thick darkness surrounding her.  He wondered when the electricity was going to come back on.  The candles spread around the kitchen flickered and cast eerie shadows across the surfaces where they sat.

"I'll play."

Connor looked up at Oliver as he came back from the restroom.  His lips twitched, but he managed to wrangle in his smile.  It wouldn't send the right message if he started lighting up every time Oliver walked into the room.  The message was still: your place or mine?  And he didn't want to mess with that.  He dragged the chair back that he saved for him and smirked at the lopsided grin Oliver gave him in thanks.

"Cool."  Laurel enthused, forced to drag over an ottoman and perch on it on her knees since she only had four chairs.  "Asher, do you want to-"

"No!"  He raised his hands to ward off whatever spell his idiotic brain thought she was capable of casting on him.  He looked down at the game with undeniable curiosity, though.  "I'll watch."

"So.  Oliver," Laurel made it a point to address the least familiar member of the group.  Such a kind, welcoming spirit, that one.  Connor wondered what cheesy Hallmark moment in her life made her that way, but at least her pre-K teacher lifestyle was benefiting Oliver now.  "You ever played with one of these before?"

He shook his head with a small nervous smile.  "My cousin did once.  He said he 'made contact' with a spirit.  But he also said he slept with Lady Gaga in a trolley, so he's not an easy person to believe."

"He might have."  Michaela didn't look up from her cell phone as she responded.  "A friend of my aunt's slept with Gaga in the Statue of Liberty."

Connor rolled his eyes.  "Everyone knows someone who knows someone who slept with Gaga in a weird place.  It's an urban sex legend."  They were all so gullible.  "Though, I do have it on good authority that a girlfriend of mine from Aspen got to second base with Gaga on a ski lift."

Now it was Michaela's turn to look unimpressed, but Connor was unshakeable.  He had no idea if it was true, but he always indulged his friends' tales of sexual conquests even if they were formulated from fifty percent booze, thirty percent fantasy, and twenty percent outright lies.

"On a ski lift?"  Oliver looked mildly alarmed.  "That sounds dangerous."

Connor shrugged.  "Maybe I'll take you with me this winter and we can see how _hard_ it is."

Laurel cleared her throat loudly, Asher watching them with his nose wrinkled, so he gave it a rest.  For now.  He got what he wanted anyway.  Oliver was ruffled and nervous the way Connor liked him.

Laurel explained the rules.  One finger on the little heart-shaped planchette with the glass circle in the middle, they had to push it around, and if a ghost showed up it would spell out a message.  Simple.  Dumb and pointless but simple.

"Does it make me a total wuss to admit that I'm a little nervous?"  Oliver confessed sheepishly.

"Don't worry."  Connor grinned at him, and tossing a glance at Aiden, added in an overly dramatic taunt of his earlier words to Michaela, "I'll protect you."

His quiet chuckle brought slight confusion to Oliver's face but a knowing look from his old friend.

Aiden nodded, undaunted.  "Keep it up, Walsh.  You know you're still jealous of my game."

Connor was all too delighted to bring that subject up.  "I remember your game very well.  And I'm pretty sure your cock remembers mine."

That elicited an immediate, furious response from his boarding school hookup's fiancé, "God, shut up, Connor!  What is wrong with you?!"

He shrugged sarcastically, "Not much: good genes, strong brain, and mass sex appeal.  I even get 'straight' guys."

He only stopped sniggering when the corner of his eye caught Laurel staring at him unhappily in the glow of the candlelight, her eyes moving to Oliver beside him.  Connor never censored himself.  He said what he thought and sometimes he thought things that bothered other people (honestly, that was half the fun), but when his gaze landed on Oliver, eyes on the tabletop solemnly, he felt an uncomfortable twist in his gut.  Which was total bullshit since it wasn't like he was married to the guy, but he didn't like the slump in Oliver's shoulders or the careful way he was obviously trying to withdraw from the exchange.  It wasn't very often that he felt like an asshole and was actually bothered by it.

Frowning, he sank back in his seat.  "Are we going to play or what?  I'm not staying here all night."

Everyone playing leaned forward to reach the board in the center of the small table and placed their index fingers on top of the pointer.

"You should summon the ghost of someone really hot."  Asher said enthusiastically.  He crossed his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits to secure them from the possibility of touching the board himself.  Now that he wasn't going to be directly involved, he was relaxing about the situation.  "Summon the ghost of Madonna."

Michaela drawled back, "Madonna isn't dead, dumbass."

"What about James Dean?"  Connor suggested.  He was dead and hot.  He glanced at Oliver who he knew owned the Special Edition of _Rebel Without a Cause_ but only got a weak smile in response.  The twist in his stomach grew tighter.

Laurel spread her hands and hovered them above the board like she was going to chant over a cauldron.  "I find it works much better when you're open to all spirits and welcome any that are nearby.  It provides a safe space for them to crossover to our side."

What the hell?  She was more cracked than he thought.

Not everyone agreed.

"That's nice."  Oliver said.  "I like that."

Connor turned to him in surprise and readjusted his own reply quickly to suit his, "Yeah, me too.  Let's do that."

His attempt at reclaiming Oliver's favor didn't go entirely unnoticed.  Wes was tucking away a small smile as he stared at the table.  Connor scowled, but when Oliver scooted his finger closer to his on the pointer, brushing their hands, his lip turned up into something happier.

They slowly began to spin the pointer around the board in wide circles, the quiet scratch of it cutting over the ringing in his ears.

"Is anybody here with us?"  Laurel spoke to the air.  "We wish you no harm.  We only want to speak to you and help you in any way that we can."

Connor did not roll his eyes, and not getting awarded for that in some way was positively criminal.  Maybe Oliver would reward him later.  His cheek warmed as he tilted it towards the nearest candle to peer over at the guy he was sleeping with on a semi-regular (very regular, very frequent) basis that he was not exclusive with (he wasn't sleeping with anyone else but that didn't mean he wouldn't if the opportunity arose and he wanted to).

He zoned Laurel out as he thought of all the ways Oliver might reward him.  Maybe he'd turn off the lights when they got back to his place and light some candles there too.  Oliver looked really good in it, kind of ethereal.  He could see the candle wicks reflected in his glasses.  He wondered if he would have slept around as much in boarding school if Oliver had gone there too, or if maybe a geek with round glasses and a laptop permanently strapped to his side would have stolen his attention.

Snapping his eyes forward, he shook that idea from his mind.  That was stupid.  Of course he would have gotten around still.  He just would have done Oliver a lot sooner.

He started guiding the direction of the pointer to distract himself from that dumb thought, dragging the glass circle closer to the letters as he tried to think of something to make it say.  Laurel got excited by the irregular movement, and Oliver stiffened at his side.  He really was scared.  It was sort of endearing.

Asher leaned closer to the table where he was standing, a stupid grin on his face, "Hey.  Make it spell 'fart'."

Wes and Laurel looked up at him looking puzzled and scornful respectively.  Yep.  That guy was their competition.  Connor shook his head and dragged the pointer to the letter:

F-

That was as far as he got before he was busted.

"Connor, cut it out."  Laurel glared at him.  She took her ghost texting seriously.

"I wasn't going to spell 'fart'."  He retorted frankly, shooting Asher a withering look, but stopped guiding the pointer.  "I was going to spell 'fuck'."

He caught Oliver's eye and was satisfied with the amused, slightly embarrassed smile he gave him.

"Could you please stop messing around and be more respectful?"  Laurel reprimanded him.  Wallflower truly was missing her calling.  She would make an excellent elementary school teacher.  "It won't work if you're not open to it."

He raised his free hand innocently in surrender, and she turned her stern gaze back to the board.

Silence fell over the group, and in the heavy quiet with only softly billowing limited light, Connor could see how simpler minds might get their nerves rattled.  See things that weren't there.  Fear things that didn't exist.  It all boiled down to keeping your wits about you and not letting your imagination run wild just because the sun had set and a floorboard creaked.  Connor prided himself on having more sense than—

Hard banging knocks on the door nearly threw him out of his skin.  His chair scraped backwards loudly as he shot back from the table.  Asher shouted an incoherent curse, throwing his anxious, tightly wound body back and knocking down the rest of the sodas as he tried to catch himself and crashed to the floor.  Beside him, Oliver let out a little yelp, and that high, odd sound was what tore the fear off Connor's face with a wide, sweeping smile.

Leaning sideways in his seat and dropping his forehead briefly against Oliver's shoulder, he laughed the tension out of his system.  Looking over at Asher sprawled on the floor didn't help.  Even Michaela was grinning, hand clutched to her chest.

Laurel got up to answer the door, eyes bugged out at the commotion, and they could hear her dealing with the woman, one of her neighbors, inquiring about the power outage.

"That was manly."  Oliver acknowledged the opposite self-deprecatingly.  "Any possibility all of you could delete that?  From your minds?"

Connor reached out and squeezed his leg under the table.  "Not a chance."

In fact, he wondered if he could make him make that sound in other ways.

"Asher, no offense, man, but you're kind of a spaz."  Aiden chuckled over at the guy as he got back to his feet.  "Connor, do you remember…  What was his name?  Peter Dale?"

All at once, the tripped-over-his-own-feet, bumbling doofus that always passed out at parties and woke up with dicks drawn on his face flashed through his mind.

"Yeah, that guy was an idiot."  He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully as he gazed over at Asher and made the connection.  "Ah.  Yes, I see it."

Aiden laughed and Connor started to join him but cut it short when he noticed Oliver's eyes moving between them speculatively.  Connor had told him about what went down with Aiden when they were at school together and how he had used the information to mess with Michaela.  Maybe Oliver was trying to see if there was something still there between them.  Which there wasn't.  He didn't know why he cared about the conclusion Oliver drew, but the irritating feeling in the pit of his stomach had to mean that he did, right?

While the others were distracted by Asher getting up and shaking two of the dented soda cans, threatening to pop the caps and let them explode all over them, Connor pressed his shoulder against Oliver's and spoke into his ear.

"You could bend me over the sofa now if you wanted.  It's dark enough."  He pulled back to let his eyes linger on his lips for a moment before dragging them up.  "No one would even notice."

Oliver played along, something Connor liked about him.  His cheeks might get warm, but he liked to be teased.  "Maybe not the soda can guy.  It seems like he misses a lot."

Connor grinned.

"But Aiden might."  And there it was.  A challenge, as small as it was.

Connor decided to press his luck.  "Who?"

But Aiden apparently had epic timing.  He twisted around back towards the table where he stood, both of the shaken cans safely in his hands.  Asher being easy to overtake was not surprising at all.

"Walsh, didn't I find you naked and covered in Dr. Pepper by the pool senior year?"  He shook one of the cans a few times like he might make him relive the experience, which involved a horny new transfer student, a fake I.D., and a batch of magic brownies.  Connor narrowed his eyes at Aiden's wide grin, sincerely doubting that he would have brought that up if Michaela had not wandered off to the restroom during his soda fight with Douche Face.

"It was junior year."  He conceded reluctantly.  "And it was root beer not Dr. Pepper.  But yes."

And when Aiden had kicked him awake, he had washed all of the stickiness off by doing a naked cannonball in the pool.  Oliver was smiling at the anecdote, but there was a tinge of exasperation around its edges like he thought he had to compete with the history they shared.  Ridiculous.  The guy had a fiancé, and Connor had followed his dick, not his heart back then.  Not that he was following his heart now.

Jesus.  He needed to stop thinking.  His mind was out of order.

After getting rid of the neighbor, Laurel returned, and they started again.  Everyone took their seats and began pretending once more that this wasn't the dumbest way to waste an evening.  She tilted her chin towards the ceiling, eyes closed, and tried to reach out to the spirit realm again in a low, soothing voice.

"If anyone is here with us, let yourself be known.  Speak through us."  She implored.  "Come forth."

Come forth??  She was crossing into lost cause territory.  Asher, spooked by Laurel's psychic medium witch voice, was staring wide-eyed at the board again, preparing for the devil to break through.  Michaela's screen was lit up, but she was watching them discretely under her lashes.  The only one who didn't look like they thought Linda Blair was going to crawl out of the board and twist her head around full circle was Wes.  He glanced at Oliver to see if he thought this was ridiculous yet, but Oliver was watching Aiden pensively.  Too pensively.  _Goddammit._

Time to let the spirits take care of this.

The pointer began to move.  A glint of excitement spiked through Laurel's eyes, and the others instinctively leaned forward to look.  At the armchair, Michaela half-stood to peer over more openly.  Asher looked like he might be sick.

"Are you here with us?"  Laurel asked, voice revealing her poorly concealed eagerness.  He wondered how many times she had done this, maybe alone, and gotten nothing.  An open-minded girl with nothing to be open to.

The pointer slid quickly to the word YES.

Tension crackled through the air between them.

"Is there something you want to tell us?"  She prompted.  The pointer spun around YES again.

"Oh shit, it's happening," Asher murmured, eyes glued to the board.  Michaela walked a few steps closer, keeping back cautiously.

"We're here to listen."  Laurel encouraged.  "What is it you want to say?"

The pointer went back and forth slowly, this way and that before deliberately beginning to arc towards the letters.  It spelled out a name letter by letter.  He never did theater, but he was a fairly adept liar and adjusted his expression accordingly.

C-O-N-

He felt Laurel looking at him when it was obvious what it was spelling and carefully pinched his face into an uneasy look of confusion.

N-O-R

Asher gasped, "Dude, it knows your name!"

"Shh!"  Laurel hissed.  It was moving again.

L-

O-

V-

E-

S

He peeked to the side where Oliver's brow was beginning to crease.  He bit his lip.

O-

L-

I-

V-

E-

R........

The pointer made a few lazy circles before hitting the final letters with quick snaps.

-S

C-O-C-K

The tension in the room popped.

Laurel withdrew her hand and reeled on him, sinking down to her knees on the ottoman, "Connor!"

Asher was still trying to figure out the words, eyes rolled towards the ceiling as he put the letters together, mumbling, "Connor…loves…Oliver's…co—Ah!  Dude!"

"I thought you didn't kiss and tell."  Michaela cut in dryly.

He leaned back in his chair sneering.  "It was the ghost.  It got inside my mind.  I feel violated."  He grinned wolfishly at Oliver, stretching his arm across the back of his chair and leaning close, "You want to violate me and make it better?"

The flustered, speechless look on his face was absolutely priceless.

"I am so sorry, everyone."  Oliver offered, a cute flush of embarrassment softening his features.  "He hasn't been housebroken yet."

That and he quite possibly had one too many drinks.  Laurel kept a pretty good stock for someone who played the good girl routine as well as a tween idol pre-public breakdown/rehab stint.  Connor curled his arm around his neck and dragged him closer to steal a quick kiss, still grinning.  He couldn't help it if they were all easy to play and Oliver was so much fun to play with.

"Okay!  I'm calling it."  Laurel griped.  "You guys are the worst, and we'll never make contact this way."

"You would never make contact _any_ way, because this is all ridiculous."  Michaela tossed a prissy judgmental look their way.

"That why you didn't play but kept creeping closer?"  Wes looked up and asked.  "Because it's ridiculous?"

Connor turned amused eyes in her direction.  People weren't scared of things they didn't believe in.

"I didn't play, because you're all losers and this is stupid.  Aiden," she gathered her stuff pointedly, "I am ready to leave."

Connor flinched and blinked his unprepared eyes against the sudden brightness as the electricity came back on, and the apartment was once again bathed in light.  There was startled squinting all around.

"Michaela's leaving and light comes back into the world."  Asher's eyebrows shot up.  "Is that not a sign?"

"It's a sign of your stupidity."  She shot back as she left, dragging Aiden behind her.  He waved over at everyone, snatching his coat and disappearing on his way out.  Oliver lowered his hand from waving back, and the burdened look in his eyes wasn't there anymore when he looked at Aiden.  Connor called that a win.

Laurel thumped Connor on the head with the Ouija board lightly as she swiped it up in annoyance.  He just grinned harder and rolled his head over to look at Oliver, eyes sweeping up and down the length of him.  "Your place or mine?"

That was the message he was trying to maintain, but somehow he thought he might still be losing his grip on what that meant anymore when they got back to Oliver's place and didn't have sex.  Tired and quiet, they undressed and flipped the lamps off, crawling under the blankets and succumbing to their exhaustion.  When Oliver slid up behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist sleepily, he decided not to worry about it tonight.  Oliver felt warm and familiar.  It was hard to fight against something that felt that good when he was so close to sleep.  As he drifted off easily, work and play done for the night, he thought that maybe it might be okay if 'your place or mine' started to mean something else.

 


End file.
